Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from South Sudan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing the Sonics to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Nation of Ulysses. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Interpol,
T. Rex,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Shuggie Otis,
The Vogues,
Slick Rick,
Quantec,
Hardrive,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
In Retrospect,
Josef K,
Rufus Thomas,
The Birthday Party,
Charles Mingus,
UT,
Tres Demented,
Cheater Slicks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fugs,
Yaz,
Pet Shop Boys,
Derrick May,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ossler,
Rotary Connection,
Supertramp,
Marshall Jefferson,
Mad Mike,
Hoover,
Index,
Fad Gadget,
Wire,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Invisible,
Loose Ends,
Circle Jerks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
DJ Sneak,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Thee Headcoats,
The Pop Group,
Barbara Tucker,
Girls At Our Best!,
Aaron Thompson,
Faust,
Tubeway Army,
The Seeds,
John Cale,
Laurel Aitken,
Flamin' Groovies,
Flash Fearless,
Black Flag,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mr. Review,
Rod Modell,
Duran Duran,
Gang Green,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby, Dorothy Ashby.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.